55 Word Challenge
by NatesMama
Summary: A series of one shots based on a list of 55 words designed to get us through the gaping hold the Bones "winter hiatus" has left in our schedules. Rated M for later chapters.
1. Limbo

This is a set of 55 challenge words designed by a poster at the Bone Yard to get us through the Winter Break....55 Bones-free days. sob

I didn't post the word list, but you'll see them all eventually. :)

I don't own Bones. If I did, I would try to get 50 episode seasons.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Limbo

There was something to be said for forward progress. It got you through the most important times in your life. Grade school, college, marriage, kids...everything worth anything was predicated on the idea that being stagnant was worse than regression. Special Agent Seeley Booth knew all of this, and yet here he was, hovering in place while waiting for something, _anything _to push him forward and admit his true feelings to Brennan.

Truth be told, it wasn't all her. Sure, he told those he confided in that he was sure she didn't love him, that she wasn't ready for that kind of declaration from him...anything to mask the true stumbling block that was masked by his almost comical rationale. He was scared to death.

He knew he should have more faith in her, and how far she had come. And he did. But was it enough to keep them together if she decided that they were better staying friends than potential lovers? He hoped so, but the fear still ruled his actions...or lack thereof.

Hope and faith. He lived on them like the air he breathed these days.

Watching her examine the bones of their latest case, he could only take in her measured, precise movements in stoic silence. Arms crossed over his chest like a shield, protecting his heart, eyes following her every touch on the white bones...he knew he was bordering on pathetic. But he couldn't help himself. If he had to choose between being just friends and not having any contact with her at all, he would have chosen the former...at least, he would have a year ago.

But now...he wasn't sure if that was going to be enough. Now he wanted it all. And if he couldn't have it...he could almost see himself walking away. Just like everyone else who had ever disappointed her, abandoned her, left her. He prided himself on his strength, bravery, fidelity and morality, but everything he believed in was being seriously threatened by his love for Temperance Brennan and he wasn't sure how much longer he could let it go on. It was coming time to make a choice.

Because as much as he loved her, living his life in limbo was something he was no longer willing to endure. Even for her.


	2. Siren

I'm doing these in the order Bonesfan posted them so I don't miss one. Sad, huh? ;)

Siren

"Good morning, squints! What do we have on this guy?" Booth was in an inordinately great mood. He had woken up to his beautiful Bones curled naked and warm against him, he'd had a great breakfast, and he found out that his boss, Hacker, was transferred to the Butte, Montana office. Life was truly good.

"Morning, Booth. Right now, we don't have anything conclusive. I'm just getting to the particulates, we have a new intern and she's a little...well, slow." Hodgins slapped Booth on the shoulder and rolled his eyes. "Easy on the eyes, hard on the patience."

At that moment, the intern in question stepped onto the platform balancing an unwieldy tray and looking intense. She was blonde, tiny and pretty in a beauty-queen sort of way. She walked slowly, tongue firmly sticking out of the corner of her mouth. Once she reached the exam table, she set the tray down and looked to Hodgins for approval.

"Where is Dr. Brennan? I brought the tools she requested." The girl looked around, and her eyes settled on Booth for the first time. She smiled what she thought was a seductive grin his way and nodded. "Hi there. You must be Agent Booth. I'm Persephone!"

Booth nodded absently. "Yes. It's nice to meet you, Persephone." He looked back to Hodgins. "Where is Bones? I brought her another coffee."

"She's in Angela's office. They're trying to work up a scenario on the method of death."

"Great. I'll just go keep the sirens company." Booth smiled at Hodgins, who nodded in amusement at his mythological reference.

After Booth left the platform, Persephone turned to Hodgins. "Wow. Does he have a girlfriend? He's hot."

"Oh yes, he is definitely taken." Hodgins declined to mention Brennan, the devil on his left shoulder urging him to goad the girl on a little.

"Really. I didn't see a ring." Persephone continued to watch Booth amble towards Angela's office. "I wonder how serious it is."

"Oh, pretty serious. He's been with her for five years, almost six."

"Hmmm. And still not married? That's unusual." She inwardly wondered why any woman would let a man that gorgeous go so long without making him put a ring on her finger. "Must not be _that _serious."

"Trust me. No other woman has a chance." Hodgins grinned again and turned back to his work.

Persephone was interested...very interested. But her curiosity was put on hold by the arrival of her mentor, Dr. Brennan.

"Miss Jones? Are you ready to catalog the wounds on the remains so we can finish the scenario for Angela?" Brennan snapped a pair of gloves on and nodded to her intern.

"Yes, Dr. Brennan. Of course." She began at the base of the skull and started to dictate the wounds on the body into a portable dictation machine. She paused in her work when Booth once again joined them on the platform.

"Hi again, Agent Booth." She cooed. "Tell me, are you busy for lunch today?"

Brennan arched an eyebrow at Booth, keeping the amused smile to a minimum. Booth, for his part, managed to look a little embarrassed. Hodgins barely held his laughter at bay.

"Actually, yes I am. I am having lunch with my girlfriend. But, thank you anyway." Booth tried to be as polite as possible.

"That's a shame. Maybe some other time." She batted her eyelashes at Booth, and tried to look appropriately cowed....for now. She knew she had the ability to lure the extremely cute FBI agent away from whomever this mystery girlfriend was. Guys like him preferred blonds, she knew that as well from vast amounts of experience.

"I-um, I don't think so. But thanks." Booth shook his head in amazement. The girl really was slow. "Anyway...Bones, you'll call me when you get something? I need to head back to the Hoover to start cleaning up the mess with Hacker leaving."

Brennan smiled again, and leaned in to kiss Booth quickly, much to the shock and dismay of her newest intern. "Sure, Booth. And I think I'll be ready for lunch around one, if that's okay. We should have something for you by then, as well."

"Thanks, babe. I'll call you. Later, Hodgins!" Booth waved and walked quickly off the platform, not wanting to watch the fireworks.

Persephone clenched her eyes shut, not wanting to watch her career disintegrate before her eyes. "Dr. Brennan, I apologize. I didn't know about you and Agent Booth."

Brennan decided that she was much too happy and sexually satisfied to cause the poor girl any more discomfort. "It's perfectly fine, Miss Jones. Booth is extremely well-structured and I would be surprised if any woman found him less than attractive." She turned back to the bones she was examining, head down, never changing tone.

"But if you continue to pursue or flirt with Booth in any way, shape or form I will rip your pretty blonde hair out and choke you with it."

"Yes, Dr. Brennan. Of course."

Hodgins couldn't wipe the grin off his face for the rest of the day. '_Siren, my ass. More like Medusa.'_


	3. Badge

Badge

"You know it's not fair."

"And why is that, Bones?"

"You've had an access badge for the Jeffersonian since our first year as partners. And I still have to wear a visitor's badge for the Hoover after five years! It's not fair, Booth!"

"Look, Bones...you are not an employee of the FBI, therefore technically you _are _a visitor when you come to the Hoover. The badge you gave me is NOT an employee badge, it's an access badge for the platform. Big difference."

"But the badge still gives you access! I have to register at the door every single time I come in!"

"And that's for security reasons, Bones! We can't let just anyone in without checking them out, you know that!"

"Oh, now I'm just _anyone_?!?"

"You know what I meant, Bones. Don't be obtuse."

"Great, now I'm obtuse."

"Actually, that's not _just _now."

"Are you kidding me?"

"Hey, you do miss a lot of pop culture references you should get, Bones. I mean, you did have a television and a radio when your parents were raising you, didn't you?"

"Of course."

"Then how could you have known who Cyndi Lauper was and not know who Michael Jackson was?"

"I don't know. I guess he wasn't as popular."

"Are you kidding? His Thriller album was the best selling album of all time, that album defined our generation during the early 80's! I just don't get it."

"You're deflecting. I still want an official FBI badge."

"Booones...."

"No, Booth. I am not dropping it. Now put some clothes on and go down there and get me that badge!"

"Bones, it's not happening."

"What, you getting dressed or the badge?"

"Both. I am perfectly comfortable completely naked right now and you are not getting a badge. End of discussion."

"Fine. Then I'll get dressed. Either way, your nakedness is wasted."

"Booth?"

"Fine. I'll go put in a request in the morning. Good enough?"

"Yes. Thank you, Booth."

"Wipe that satisfied smile off your face, Bones."

"Then give me a reason to wear it."

"I can do that, Bones. That I can definitely do."


	4. Charm

Charm

The older woman sat at the surprisingly clean diner table and sighed. Usually she liked to find a new place to eat and people watch, but today it looked like she had struck out as far as seeing anything interesting to keep her longer than a cup of coffee. The waitress came over and offered her a warm up, and she decided that it would be her last before she gave up and headed back to the too-quiet house she used to share with her husband of 52 years. Since he had passed three years prior, her life had become an experiment in loneliness that she wished daily would end. Her kids lived halfway across the country and although they called almost daily, it wasn't the same. Most of her friends were either gone or in nursing homes, and while it was a matter of pride to her that she was healthy and stable enough to live without assistance, some days it seemed more like a curse than a blessing.

The bell over the diner's door tinkled, signaling the arrival of more patrons.

"Booth, I mean it. I refuse to bend to some archaic societal construct just because it allows you to assert your alpha male side sufficiently! It's, frankly, insulting that you think I need doors opened for me as if I were some sort of weak, wilting flower of a woman!" The beautiful brunette raging at her companion took the seat directly behind the woman, dropping into it with practiced annoyance.

The handsome man who was on the receiving end of her feminist diatribe sat in the seat opposite his companion, a look of supreme tolerance and understanding on his face. "Bones, I know that you don't understand why I feel the need to act like a gentleman in your presence, but what I don't know is why you insist on assuming that I am trying to 'assert my alpha male side' when you know damn well that my purpose has nothing to do with that."

The old woman nodded, smiling. _'Good for him. It's nice to hear that some of the younger generation still have respect for a lady.' _She leaned back slightly, turning her head a bit so that she could see them both without looking as if she were listening.

The woman sighed and nodded. "Alright, Booth. I admit that I may have overreacted slightly to your efforts to open the door for me. I apologize."

"Thank you. I accept. Now, what do you want to eat? Pancakes? I'm starved!" He grabbed the menu and began to read through it with relish.

"Pancakes actually sound really good. Do you think they have that blueberry syrup like they did last time?" She could practically hear the woman's stomach rumble with the thought.

"I'm sure they do, Bones. Now, lets get some coffee and relax. That last case kicked my metaphorical ass and I need something to take my mind off of it. What are you doing this weekend?" He leaned forward, elbows on the table, and gave her what the woman could only describe as a smoldering gaze. _'Ah, they're lovers. He definitely looks like a man who is completely smitten.'_

"Oh, I have a date with Andrew tomorrow night. Something about a dance club opening that he invests in, wants us to make an appearance." The waitress brought them their coffee, causing them to pause their conversation.

_'Another man, eh? Wonder if he knows his lady has someone else on her trail?'_

"Mmm. Sounds like fun, Bones."

"You say that, but your tone indicates you feel otherwise, Booth."

"Nope. Nothing in my tone indicates anything. I hope you have a good time. Parker and I are going to the Smithsonian tomorrow, then to Old Ebbitt Grill for dinner. He loves that place." Booth smiled, his teeth showing in exaggerated glee.

She felt, rather than saw, the woman shift in her seat uncomfortably. "Oh. That really does sound like fun. Parker will love the Smithsonian."

"Yeah, it's too bad you're busy. He'd probably like it if you were there to be all squinty and explain things for him. His old dad has a hard time with all that. Me, I just wanna see Fonzie's leather jacket." Booth tempered his enthusiasm, obviously picking up on his companion's distress.

"I don't know what that means."

"It's not important, Bones. Don't worry about it." He leaned back into his chair again. "So, pancakes. Gonna have that nasty soy sausage with it?"

The old woman could literally feel the unhappiness radiating off the woman behind her. She had heard the statement about a date with another man, and it made her wonder about the relationship between the two. It was obvious the man loved her, but the woman was harder to figure out. At least until her next comment.

"Booth? Do you think...I mean, would it be okay if maybe I came with you and Parker tomorrow? I mean, I know it's your father-son time, but if you think Parker wouldn't mind..."

"Are you kidding, Bones? Parker loves you! Of course he wouldn't mind." He paused, contemplating how to phrase his next question. "But...what about your date with Hacker?"

"Oh, yeah." She sighed almost imperceptably. "I really didn't want to go to a club. It's not something I normally enjoy. I'm sure Andrew will understand."

"If you're sure, Bones. Then we'd love you to come." She could literally hear the smile on his face.

After the waitress brought them their breakfasts, they chatted about mundane things, something about a 'case' they had finished working, and something called 'squints'. Finally, after an epic battle for the check, they stood to leave. The old woman couldn't keep her opinion to herself any longer. She lightly grasped the woman's sleeve as she went to follow the man out.

"Excuse me, miss?"

She looked surprised, but stopped and gave the woman an interested look. "Yes?"

"I just want to tell you that you are very lucky to have someone who cares about you so obviously. My husband passed away not too long ago and I think you should know what I've learned. It flies by, my dear. Like a wisp of a breeze. Then, it's gone and all you're left with is memories. But as long as the memories are good ones, filled with love and joy, then they'll be enough."

"I don't understand. Booth isn't my-" She wrinkled her forehead in confusion.

"I think you do understand. Don't let life pass you by because of fear. Embrace it. Enjoy it. _Live it!" _She released Brennan's sleeve and patted her arm. "Good luck, young lady. Now go...your young man is waiting."

"Th-thank you. Goodbye." Brennan took one more perplexed look at the woman, then moved to follow Booth, who was standing by the door with a questioning look.

"Did you know her, Bones?"

"No." Brennan looked back one more time. "But I think...I think she knew me."


	5. Couch

Couch

Temperance Brennan was trying to get some work done before the weekend started. She had plans to go to the Smithsonian on Saturday with Booth and Parker, and Booth was coming soon to pick her up so they could finish their joint paperwork. But she was being hindered in her quest by her best friend.

Angela sat forward on her friend's office couch, trying to talk Bren into a date with a friend of hers. "C'mon, sweetie. Wendell and I want to double with you and David. Dave is a really sweet guy, you;ll like him. He teaches at Georgetown."

"Ang, I told you. I am not interested in a blind date. And besides, I have plans this weekend." Brennan shook her head, wondering if it were possible to buy Angela off to leave her alone.

"But Bren...you yourself said that it had been ages since you've had sex! I'm just trying to help you out. David is gorgeous!"

"Angela, I said that months ago. What makes you think nothing has changed since then?" Brennan wanted to torture Angela, and dangling a mysterious sexual encounter in front of her seemed like fun.

"What?!? You've had sex and didn't tell me?!?"

"I never said that." Brennan hid a smile.

"But you never said you didn't either."

"Ang...let it go."

"Let what go?" Booth stepped into the office, dressed in his usual FBI standard suit, charm smile firmly in place. "Angela, are you torturing Bones again?"

"No! She's torturing me! Apparently, she's had sex lately and didn't bother to tell me!" Angela huffed her displeasure and leaned forward even more, pointing an accusatory finger at Brennan.

Booth blanched as he took in Brennan's amused look. "I really don't want to hear this, Angela."

"Don't worry, Booth. I have no intention of telling Angela anything of interest. She's hunting."

"Fishing, Bones. She's fishing. And she's very good at it." Booth rolled his eyes in the artist's direction. "Are you ready to get going?"

"Yes, just let me finish this email to the paleontology department and we can leave." Brennan began typing furiously, ignoring the glare from the couch.

"Fine. Be that way." Angela sighed, looking back at Booth. She noticed he was dressed unusually conservative for the day. "Hey, Booth...what's with the belt buckle?"

Booth looked down instinctively. "Oh...uh, I...um had to testify in court today, and you know how Caroline is."

Brennan looked up questioningly, but stopped herself from speaking after a pointed look from Booth. Angela seemed mollified, leaning back into the couch cushions to get more comfortable.

With a final click, Brennan finished her work and began gathering her things. "I'm ready, Booth. Lets go. Diner for dinner?"

"Sure, Bones. Whatever. I can have pie that way anyway." Booth helped Brennan on with her coat and followed her out the door. "Lock up when you're done in here, Ang. See you Monday." Brennan waved on her way, Booth's hand at her back as always.

"Yeah, see ya Bren. Booth."

"Night, Angela." Booth nodded and waved.

After they left, Angela settled further onto the couch, trying to get comfortable. But whenever she moved, something in the cushions seemed to be poking her. Reaching in, she rooted around until she came up with the source of her discomfort. Pulling it from the couch, her eyes began to bug completely out of her suddenly spinning head.

In her hand she held a distinctive, garish red belt buckle.

"How in the heck did that get....Oh. My. God. BREN!!! You sneaky little....!"


	6. Gut

Gut

Temperance Brennan had the strangest feeling. If pressed, she would describe it as what she experienced when she had the flu. Her stomach hurt, her palms were sweaty and her head throbbed. But she knew that she wasn't sick. In fact, when she arrived at the lab this morning she had felt fantastic. She and Booth had finally identified the probable murderer in a case that had been plaguing them for weeks, and Booth walked her into work before leaving to go arrest the suspect, Robert Tigue. Brennan had wanted to go along, but being seven months pregnant made both her and Booth wary of putting her into too much danger, so she had acquiesced to his wishes without much argument. Now, as she stood on the forensic platform, the ill feelings were starting to intensify and without even realizing it, her feet began to move her to Cam's office as fast as her unwieldy frame could go.

"Cam! What is Tigue's address? Where Booth was going earlier?" Brennan was slightly out of breath but determined.

"Uh...Dr. Brennan, if you're thinking what I think you're thinking, I'm thinking it's a bad idea..." Cam wrinkled her forehead worriedly, her suspicions confirmed by Brennan's next statement.

"Cam! Something is wrong! I need to go find Booth NOW! Give me the address!" Brennan snatched the paperwork out of her boss's hand before she could lodge anymore protests and sprinted as fast as she could out of the lab.

Cam picked up the phone and dialed Hacker as Brennan disappeared from her view. Hopefully, Booth had already taken backup with him to Tigue's residence. But if he hadn't...Cam at least could make sure everything was alright.

Brennan honked her horn incessantly and weaved in and out of traffic in an attempt to get to the other side of the city as fast as possible. She knew, intellectually, that Booth was probably just fine but something inside her screamed that the opposite was true, and she couldn't get to Tigue's house fast enough.

Finally screeching to a halt out in front of her destination, Brennan's heart stopped as she saw a prone form lying on the front steps. She raced to the body, stomach clenching painfully as she confirmed her suspicions.

"Booth! Oh God, Booth...talk to me!" He had a gunshot wound in his side and seemed to be bleeding more than she had ever seen him bleed...even at the Checkerbox. He didn't answer, and his deathly white skin and blue lips made her panic ramp up almost uncontrollably. Suddenly, two cars flew up next to hers along with an ambulance and agents began pouring onto the lawn. Director Hacker led them up the stairs, and Booth's boss crouched next to Brennan and took in Booth's condition.

"Temperance. The ambulance is here. Do we know what happened?" Hacker could literally feel the panic radiating off her, and he knew that unless he got her calmed down Booth wasn't going to be the only one in the hospital tonight.

"N-no. I just...I knew something was wrong, and when I got here, he was just...lying here..." Brennan swiped angrily at the tears rolling down her cheeks. "He needs to get to the hospital now!"

"Alright. Calm down, Temperance. Booth would want you to take it easy, for the baby. I'll make sure they get him there as fast as humanly possible. Do you want to ride with him?" Andrew moved her aside as the EMT's began working on her husband.

"Yes. Yes, please." Brennan stood stock still, watching the medics hook up IV's and put an oxygen mask on Booth, her blood running cold at the way he never flinched, and how his chest was barely moving.

Hacker moved her towards the waiting ambulance as they loaded Booth into the back on a gurney. She accepted his help into the vehicle, then turned and looked at Andrew as they prepared to close the doors.

"Thank you, Andrew." She practically whispered.

"You're welcome. Just take care of yourself. Booth would never forgive me if I let you make yourself sick. I'll be praying, Temperance. Now go!" He directed the last statement to the medics as they slammed the doors and roared off.

Six hours later, Brennan sat at Booth's bedside as the monitors beeped and whirred, keeping track of Booth's respiration and heartbeat. The sound was disconcerting, yet comforting. _He's alive. Another close call survived. _She held his hand tightly, and despite everything she ever believed she bowed her head and thanked Booth's God for giving him back to her again.

"Bones?" The whispered word felt like a shout to Brennan in the near silence of the ICU.

"Booth! You're back!" She couldn't help the grin that lit up her face as she leaned over him and pressed her forehead to his. "How are you feeling?"

"Mmmm. Floaty. It's nice." Booth smiled softly and turned his head to look around. "What happened?"

Brennan sat back on her chair and rubbed her thumb along the knuckles on the hand she still clutched tightly. "Tigue saw you coming and before you could even knock on his door he opened it and shot you point blank. The bullet hit your left kidney and exited through and through. You lost the kidney and had massive internal bleeding, but otherwise you're fine."

"Tigue? Did he get away?" Booth was pissed at himself for not taking backup with him, but relieved that his Bones had been safely at the lab when it went down.

"No, he shot himself in the head when he realized what he'd done, we think. He was dead when I got there."

"You? What were you doing at the house? I told you-" Booth shook his head. She may be the love of his life, but sometimes he just wanted to strangle her.

"Seeley." Booth stopped, knowing that when she used his first name she meant business. "Stop. All I can tell you is that I just knew something was wrong, and I had to get there as soon as I could. If I hadn't, you would be-well, it wouldn't have turned out as well. So just get over it."

"Thanks, Bones." He said quietly. "I'm sorry for worrying you. I promise I won't go without backup anymore. I swear."

"Good. Because I am getting tired of sitting at your bedside waiting for you to wake up." Brennan smiled slightly and pressed a kiss to his lips. "It's exhausting, you know."

"I know, especially when you're worrying for two." Booth slid the hand she was holding down to her expanded abdomen. "Well, considering how you saved me, at least we know this kid is definitely mine."

"What do you mean?" She furrowed her brow in confusion.

"You used your gut, Bones. You used your gut."


	7. Daffodil

Daffodil

There were few things that made Angela Montenegro bug-eyed in the morning before she had even had her first sip of coffee. Waking up to a strange man she didn't remember meeting in her bed, the remnants of a 'girl's night in' strewn all over her normally neat and tidy condo, and flowers being delivered to Temperance Brennan's office on a Monday morning. Roses, to be exact. Three dozen. The delivery man set them up on Brennan's desk, and left with a smile after Angela agreed to sign for them.

Her curiosity got the better of her, so she entered the office and peeked at the card. _"Three dozen roses for the three years I've regretted not having you by my side. Dinner, tonight? ~Sully"_. Angela blanched at the thought of the former FBI agent and Brennan paramour popping back into the picture. Only a schmuck like Sully would assume Brennan was still single after three years. Then again...she **was** single. Angela sighed at the realization. Nothing would make Booth take yet another step back from Brennan faster than her ex-boyfriend showing up to woo her. While Angela generally found Booth's sense of chivalry sexy, when it came to how he handled Temperance Brennan, it was downright frustrating.

Angela pushed her dark thoughts aside as the objects of her musings walked into the Jeffersonian, chatting excitedly about something only the two of them would probably ever understand. Angela often thought that they existed in their own orbit, only allowing those most blessed to join them in their otherworldly rotation around the universe. And being one of those fortunate souls, the artist waited outside Brennan's office for the two to cross the threshold of the room, greeting her with smiling 'Good Morning, Angela!'s and then stopping dead at the sight before them.

"Roses?" Brennan looked chagrined. "Booth? Did you-"

"No, Bones. Wasn't me." Booth leaned over to sniff the beautiful flowers. "Seems you have a secret admirer."

Brennan had taken out the card and read it to herself. "Well, not really so secret, actually." She handed the card to Booth, who read it with a grimace.

"Sully, huh? Wonder what brings him back to the real world?" Booth looked as though he knew exactly what it was, and didn't look very happy about the realization.

"I think that's obvious." Angela finally entered the room, sweeping her gaze between both partners. "I think someone still has a thing for our Bren, here." She watched Booth's expression carefully, watching for any indication that he was going to snap and go alpha-male on the room. His face never changed.

"Well, what an interesting start to the day. And that's my cue to head to the Hoover for some lovely paperwork." Booth ran a hand down Brennan's arm affectionately and patted Angela on the back. "See you lovely ladies later." He strolled out the door as if he hadn't a care in the world.

"Talk about compartmentalizing." Angela muttered. "So, what are you going to do about Sully, Bren?"

Brennan's expression remained unreadable as well. "We'll talk later, Ang. I have some work to do as well. Maybe we can have lunch?"

Angela knew when to pick her battles, and it seemed like Brennan had a lot to think about right then. "Sure, sweetie. I'd like that. Around 1?"

"Fine. I'll talk to you later, Ang."

Five hours later, after not hearing a peep from her best friend all morning, Angela finally headed her way to take her to lunch and to have some girl talk. She was stopped by another delivery man, leaving the office with a small smile on his face and a $20.00 bill in his hand. She entered the office, only to see her friend standing behind her desk, a sweet smile on her face, gently holding five daffodils up to her nose.

"Bren?" Angela almost didn't want to interrupt what seemed to be a private moment. "Did Sully send you more flowers?" She then noted the roses, sitting unceremoniously in Brennan's trash can.

"No, he didn't." Brennan continued to smile as she admired the small, yellow bunch her her hand. It was tied together with a beautiful light blue ribbon and scattered through the bunch was tiny sprigs of baby's breath. "Aren't they beautiful?"

Angela was at a loss. Thirty-six gorgeous red roses elicited almost no response from Brennan, but five small daffodils made her look like...well, like a woman in love.

"They are very pretty, Bren. Who are they from?"

"Booth."

Angela had already suspected this, but wanted confirmation. "That's sweet. So, are you having dinner with Sully?"

Brennan shook her head. "No. I am not interested in revisiting that relationship. He left. That was the end of that."

"Hmmm. Okay. So not even three dozen roses could persuade you, huh?"

"I don't care for roses."

"I see." And she finally did. "Daffodils are your favorite, right?"

"Yes." Another small, secret smile crossed Brennan's lips. "Booth knows that."

"Of course he does. So, I understand the significance of the three dozen roses from Sully. But, why _five_ daffodils from Booth, Bren?"

Her friend's answer made Angela's own heart skip a beat, and loosened the hopelessness she felt whenever she watched her friend with her "just" partner.

"It signifies five years, Angela. Because he stayed."


	8. Necklace

_I skipped 'luddite' for the time being because I seriously couldn't come up with a decent idea. Yet._

Necklace

Temperance Brennan hated her birthday. And it wasn't the usual female vanity and worry about getting old, it was being the center of attention, the unwanted gifts, the cake she really didn't need to indulge in...all of it just made her miserable. She hadn't had a decent birthday since her parents left her all those years ago, and everyone including Booth and her father, had respected her wishes to just ignore the day.

So when she walked into her office that morning and saw the small, brightly wrapped gift sitting on her desk her first thought was to chuck it into her garbage can and forget it. Instead, she set it to the side and decided to ignore it completely.

The morning and afternoon passed quietly, no one bothering her with happy birthday wishes, no cards and no other gifts. She was grateful that her friends and family understood and loved her enough to do as she asked, and soon enough it was past time for her to head home for the day. She gathered her things, and almost as an afterthought she picked up the offending ribboned box and threw it in her bag.

On her way home she stopped and picked up some dinner from her favorite vegetarian take out restaurant and picked up a DVD to watch on the TV she finally bought to keep Booth entertained on the nights he stayed over doing paperwork. Once at home, she took a quick shower, changed into comfortable clothes and sat on her sofa to watch a movie and eat dinner.

The food was tasty and the movie wasn't bad, but her attention kept being drawn back to the mysterious box still sitting in her messenger bag next to the door. Finally her curiosity got the better of her and she leaped up and retrieved the box, sitting back down before carefully opening it. When she saw the contents, her breath caught in her throat and tears filled her eyes.

Nestled in deep white cotton batting was a necklace. Obviously custom made, it had a medium thick chain that held four flower-like charms surrounding a hammered silver circular charm with four tiny daisies inlaid along the edge. It was an exact match to a pair of her mother's earrings, the one thing of her mothers that Brennan had taken with her when social services took her from her home at fifteen. The same earrings that she had been wearing in New Orleans, when she was attacked and Booth had risked his career to steal one of the pair from a crime scene...because he believed in her innocence. She clutched the necklace tightly and closed her eyes, trying to imagine her mother's face and letting that familiar feeling of comfort that she experienced when she remembered her wash over her.

After a few moments, she moved to place the necklace back in the box when she noticed there was a small card under the batting. Taking it out, the tears began again as she read the message.

_Bones,_

_I know you hate birthday presents, but I needed you to know that no matter what..._

_I'll always believe in you._

_Love, _

_Booth_


	9. Pudding

Pudding

"Bones? Bones!"

"Booth? What is it? Is something wrong with Parker?"

"No! No...I'm sorry, it's just...wow. You look great today. Very hot."

"Thanks. So do you. I love the three-piece suit on you. Sooo....what's wrong?"

"Oh, right. Um...do you remember when I showed you that website for our show?"

"Oh, yes...the, what was it, 'BoneYard'?"

"Yes! That's it! Anyway, I was looking through some of the posts yesterday, and I found some kind of disturbing things."

"Booth, are you blushing? What could you have possibly found to provoke that kind of reaction?"

"Well...um, you know how I've sort of gotten into reading that fan fiction section?" 

"Yes, and it's getting a little old, too."

"I know, I'm sorry. I just can't resist. I'm always portrayed as so virile and masculine and heroic..."

"And romantic. All of which are definitely true, by the way."

"Thanks, love. I appreciate that. But that's not the problem, really. Lately, there have been some...uh, _suggestive_ posts...very _personal._ I mean, I know it's all fiction, but it's..."

"Disconcerting?"

"Yeah! That's the word! Disconcerting. Anyway, the female posters have been writing fictions based on a challenge from one poster, brainysmrf. She decided that to keep the fans occupied for the 55 days between new episodes, everyone who wanted could write fictions based on a set of 55 words pertaining to the show....y'know, do one a day?"

"Oh, that's a nice idea. What a considerate person she is."

"Yeah, I thought so. And the posts have been great. Some a little depressing....you wouldn't believe how often jev666 kills one of us off!"

"That doesn't sound like fun."

"But they're so well-written that no one seems to mind. Some of those people should be writing for the show, they're so talented!"

"And yet, you seem upset."

"I am, Bones! Look, I don't mind a little veiled reference now and then to our sex life, but to portray me..._me_...in such a blatantly sexist way...I dunno, Bones. It's..."

"I assume that you're referring to the 'pudding posts'."

"What!?! You _read_ those?"

"Of course. Angela pointed them out to me this morning. She was very interested to know if they were at all based in reality."

"Bones! I can't believe you read those! Aren't you weirded out a little?"

"Not really, Booth. It's all speculative. And to be honest, I can't really blame those women for fantasizing about you. You are extremely well structured. If I wasn't already-"

"Okay, Bones. I got it. And thanks."

"No problem, Booth. Now, was there anything else? I have a ton of work to do. We're still on for lunch, right?"

"Sure, sweetheart. Call me when you're ready. I'll be in my office finishing my paperwork. Love you."

"Love you, too. See you later."

"Is he gone for awhile, sweetie?"

"Yes, Ang."

"Great! So...you were about to enlighten me...."

"Oh yes, Angela. The pudding."

"Aaaaand?"

"Mmmmm. Completely and totally plausible."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

I realize that this entry makes no sense unless you read the other challenge entries at the Bone Yard. Just as a reference, a few posters found it necessary (and really, it was necessary!) to insinuate that Booth could clean out a pudding cup with no spoon...and not get any pudding on his face. ;)


	10. Redemption

This is how is should be. Warning...there are spoilers here for upcoming episodes. Read at your own risk.

Redemption

"You know something, Bones? I don't understand you sometimes."

Brennan raised an eyebrow at her partner in confusion, his statement coming completely out of the blue. "I'm fairly certain you don't understand me quite a bit of the time, Booth. What are you referring to specifically?"

Booth settled back into the sofa cushion, getting ready to have what he assumed was going to be the most important conversation of his life so far. "Well, _specifically_ Bones, I don't understand how you sometimes say one thing and then act in the complete opposite way."

"Everyone does that, Booth. It's a character trait that isn't specific to me. Specifically." Brennan smiled lightly, trying to bring some levity to Booth's serious expression.

Booth huffed a breath out his nose and shook his head. "I'm serious here, Temperance."

The use of her first name should have tipped her off to the serious nature of the statement, but his tone of voice was what truly made her aware that what they were going to talk about was nothing to take lightly. "Alright. Then please give me an example of how I contradict myself so I can either explain or apologize."

"Do you have feelings for Hacker?"

Well. That was random. "Uh...he's very pleasing to spend time with, if that's what you mean."

"No. It wasn't." Booth pulled himself off the couch and began pacing in front of her. "What I meant was, I mean...you've said that you wanted to lose yourself in someone, to believe that you could do that. That you believe in love. So, my question about Hacker is...are you with him because you think he might be that guy? The one you can lose yourself in?"

"Why are you asking me this, Booth?" Brennan was becoming increasingly uncomfortable with this discussion, and Booth's inability to stand still was only serving to ramp up her skittishness even more.

Somehow sensing what he was doing to her, Booth forced himself to sit back down. He settled on the coffee table, effectively placing himself knee-to-knee with her. He looked her right in the eye and repeated his question. "Do you have feelings for Andrew?"

"Beyond a fondness for his company, no." Brennan felt that if she was honest with him, Booth might get to the point faster, because the confusion was beginning to unnerve her.

"Do you think it might develop into something more? A more intense feeling?"

"No. I don't see the relationship going beyond what it is now."

"Then why bother?" His eyes bored into hers.

Her tension was palpable, but she would not be cowed by his insolence. "I could ask you the same thing."

"About Catherine? I haven't seen her in weeks."

"Oh."

"Yeah. _Oh._"

"Can I ask why?" Brennan had begun to twist her hands together in her lap.

"Yes. She wasn't the one and I felt like I was wasting a very nice woman's time and energy on something that wasn't going to happen." Booth's complete honesty bowled her over. She didn't have a single retort.

"So, I ask again. Why bother with Hacker?" Booth wasn't going to let her avoid the question, that much was obvious now.

"I need to go. Thanks for dinner, Booth." Brennan stood, sidestepping his long legs as she headed to the kitchen to retrieve her coat from where it hung on one of the tall kitchen chairs.

Booth shook his head and laughed bitterly. "Of course you need to go. What was I thinking?" He remained sitting in the same spot, head hanging slightly, elbows resting on his knees and arms dangling between his legs.

Brennan stopped short by the door, her hand barely ghosting the doorknob. "_Excuse me?_", she gasped, whipping around and stalking back to the living room.

"You heard me, Bones."

"Are you insinuating that I am leaving because I don't want to answer your pointless questions? Or because I can't?" Brennan took up Booth's previous stance, pacing in front of him, his head still hanging down, not making eye contact with her.

"Both. No insinuation. To be insinuating, I would have to have no evidence in front of me. However, you are leaving a smoking path to my door without answering the question, so I don't suppose I _have to _insinuate anything. _Logically_, the proof is right in front of me."

Booth had finally reached his breaking point. He had let everyone around him convince him that either what he felt for Bones was ephemeral, or that it was dangerous and that she wasn't ready for it. He had let everyone else dictate the course of his life for far too long, and he was damn tired of it. He knew that it was his fault, that he always held the power to change the situation...but he'd been so turned around since the brain tumor, and he'd had trouble finding his true self. It got to the point where he began to doubt his abilities as an FBI agent, as a father, as a friend....as a _man._ He laid awake night after night, playing different scenarios in his head about this very conversation, wondering if it was going to go as badly as the others predicted, or as well as he dreamed. Either way, this was it. It ended, one was or the other right here, right now.

"Booth, this is not the time for a discussion about my relationship with Andrew. I am tired, I am irritated, and I am confused. I think we both need a good night's sleep, and then maybe we can continue this discussion some other time." Brennan began to turn on her heel again, when she felt a steely grip around her forearm. It wasn't painful, but it was solid and brooked no argument.

"Temperance." One word. Three syllables. Five years worth of emotion. It stopped her cold.

She turned and looked into his eyes. And for the first time in their entire partnership, those eyes were _begging_. Begging her. And she could deny him nothing.

"He is not the one, either." The confession, instead of breaking her like she expected, freed her.

"And who is?" Booth placed a finger under her chin, keeping her locked into his mesmerizing stare.

It was unbearable. "Booth...please don't make me..." She broke off, eyes becoming glassy with un-shed tears. "Everything...all we worked for, all...it's all..."

"Bones. Nothing is more important than this." Booth released her arm, taking her hand instead and leading her back to the sofa. She sat down boneless, allowing him to settle beside her. "If you'd prefer, I can go first."

"Booth...we shouldn't...."

"Yes, Bones. We should. And a long damn time ago." He took her hand in both of his, chafing it lightly as he gathered his own courage. "First of all, I need to apologize. I lied to you."

"A-about what?" Brennan gave up trying to stop the tears from coming, and she just let them course down her cheeks unbidden.

"When I told you, after our first case back, that I loved you in a professional way. I don't."

She gasped and tried to pull her hand away. Obviously she had misinterpreted the nature of this talk and all she wanted to do was flee. Until he finished his thought and stole her resolve and her breath.

"I just love you. Period, end of discussion. No qualifiers. I probably always have." He scooted back away from her, leaning back into the other side of the sofa as if he were either waiting for her to hit him or flee.

She found her voice, and it sounded very much like a scared, abandoned fifteen year old girl. "How? Why me?" She closed her eyes and waited for the answers she dreaded.

Booth sat up in amazement. "Why? Are you serious?"

Brennan's hands were shaking as she gripped her thighs. "Of course I am, Booth. You're...funny, and sweet and brave and honorable. You believe in God and marriage and the white picket fence and intangibles I will never understand. We have absolutely nothing in common. How could you possibly-"

"Temperance Brennan. Stop. Just...stop it. And let me tell you where you're wrong." Booth slid closer to her, one knee sliding between hers, hands on either side of her face. "You're amazing. You have such a capacity for love and caring, it humbles me. You're intelligent, you're fun, you're beautiful. Knee-knockingly, breath-stealingly, goosebump-inducingly gorgeous. You're generous, dedicated, brave and honorable. You're my best friend. The best friend I've ever had. And yes, we may not have as much in common as most couples, but we have enough. We complement each other, remember? Brain and heart, Bones. Two sides of the same coin. Two halves of a whole. Yin and yang. I only ever feel complete when you're around. I. Love. You. Am in love with you. Is that clear enough?"

It was as if Booth were watching a dam break. Her eyes had been locked on his, never wavering as he spoke. But as soon as he finished, she looked away. Not a good sign, he thought.

It was several minutes before she looked back at him. What he saw there in her face, in her eyes, gave him hope tinged with a small amount of panic. "Booth..."

"It's okay, Bones. You can tell me whatever you're thinking. I'm not going anywhere and I'm not changing how I feel." He rubbed her knuckles with his thumb, trying to console himself as much as her.

"I think...I _know _I need to go home and think. Alone." She absorbed his chagrined look and hurried to reassure him. "I am not running! I just...I need some time to take all this in. That's all. I-I feel a little overwhelmed...but in a good way, I promise." Her eyes begged him to understand.

Booth knew deep down that this was the best case scenario that he could have expected. She wasn't freaking out, she wasn't packing for Timbucktu....she was accepting and adjusting. She just needed time and space. And of all the sacrifices he had ever made for her, he knew that this was the most important of all. So he nodded, and let her go.

Brennan stood and gathered her coat, walking backward towards his door as if she were loathed to turn away from him. He followed, slowly, so he didn't spook her. When her back hit the door, she began to turn and then seemed to think better of it. What she did next rocked Booth to his core and gave him the first real peace of mind he had had since he was told he had a brain tumor all those months ago.

She leaned forward, sliding one hand along his cheek and against his neck, pulling him to her slowly but with purpose. Both sets of eyes instinctively slid closed as two sets of lips met...softly and carefully at first, but then with more purpose and attention. They didn't push for more than a touch, but it was enough. When they finally parted, she smiled softly and turned the knob to leave. She never broke eye contact as she eased out the door.

"Thank you, Seeley." She thought that his given name would sound strange on her lips, but it just felt...right.

"Good night, Temperance. I'll see you soon." He watched as she walked down the stairs from his apartment, waiting until she was out of sight before shutting the door. He leaned against it, releasing a breath that he didn't realize he had been holding...and smiled brightly. Things were definitely looking up.


	11. Tuxedo

Tuxedo

"I love a good wedding, don't you?"

"Only when the bar is open. C'mon, lets find a seat in the back."

Hodgins peeked out the side door of the church, listening to the random conversation that filtered up the aisles and into the sacristy, where he, Booth and Jared waited to be given the signal to line up out front.

"Are there a lot of people out there, Jack?" Jared tried to look around the bug man, wanting to see where his wife, Padme, was sitting.

"Enough. Most of the Hoover, a few from the Jeffersonian, tons of reporters....it's going to be standing room only, I think. Nice turn out, Booth." Hodgins turned around and looked at his friend, who seemed to be on the verge of a panic attack all of a sudden.

"Uh...reporters?" Booth was slowly turning green. Jared saw the familiar signs and grabbed his big brother, sitting him down and pushing his head between his legs.

"Breathe, Seeley. Breathe, man." He rubbed Booth's back and looked at Jack, both exchanging worried looks.

"This is a mistake." The whispered words were barely heard by both men.

Hodgins crouched down in front of his friend, a hand on his shoulder. "Booth, man...you're marrying the woman you love. Granted, the circumstances are less than ideal but still...you really aren't going to keep denying that you love Dr. B., are you?"

Booth shook his head in response then stood up suddenly. "I need to see Bones. Now."

"No can do, my friend. No can do. Ang will have my precious testicles on a chain around her neck if I let you anywhere near the bride's room. You know that." Jack stood in front of the much larger man, hoping Jared was going to back him up.

"But..." 

"But nothing, Seel. Stand down." Jared pushed Booth back into the chair, grabbing another to pull up next to him. "Tell me what's going on in your head right now."

When Booth looked up, Jared could see the terror in his eyes. "I can't do this."

"Yeah, you can. I know you can." Jared felt completely out of his element, but this was too important. "Do you love her?"

"You know I do."

"Do you think she loves you?"

"She doesn't say it, but I think so."

"Then what's the damn problem, Seeley? You're getting your heart's desire. The love of your life. Why are you balking?" Jared wanted to shake him.

"She's only doing this because of the baby. I know it."

Hodgins closed his eyes while Jared winced. They'd both wondered internally if Brennan's instant acceptance of Booth's proposal had an ulterior motive, but to hear Booth himself vocalize it was almost too much.

"No, I'm not."

All three men whipped around to see a vision in ivory standing at the door. Temperance shook her head and motioned to Jack and Jared to leave. Booth tried to hold her gaze, but found himself looking back at his shiny black shoes.

He heard the rustle of silk as Brennan moved to sit in the chair his brother had just vacated. "Booth. Look at me."

He raised his head and tried to hold her intense gaze. "Is that how little you think of me?"

"Bones..."

"No, Booth. I'm going to have my say, and then we'll decide whether this thing is actually going to happen. Okay?" Her tone was cold and precise. He inwardly cringed.

"Okay." He tried to keep his head up as she spoke.

She took his hand and held it tight. "Look, I can't deny that the fact we're having a baby had some influence on my decision to marry you. I know how much it hurt you to have no legal rights to see Parker before you and Rebecca worked things out, and I didn't want you to have to even worry about that with this child." She placed his hand over her slightly swollen abdomen. "But if you think that I would base such a life-changing decision simply on that alone, you obviously don't know me very well, Seeley Booth."

Booth moved his hand from her stomach and laid it in his lap. "Tell me. I-" He gulped and tried again. "I need to hear it from you before we do this. Please, Temperance." His pleading eyes were ultimately her undoing, and tears fell unbidden down her face.

"I'm sorry, Booth. I should have told you a long time ago. But I was scared and stupid and-"

"Bones! Please..."

"You deserve so much better than how I have been treating you, because-"

"Temperance!"

She scooted forward and took his face in her shaking hands. "Alright." Taking a cleansing breath, she finally confessed all.

"Seeley Joseph Booth, I adore you. I admire you. I cherish you. I can't imagine how empty my life would be without you and Parker in it. I'm more with you. In fact with you, I am everything I am supposed to be. And I am so, so sorry that it's taken me this long to tell you what I should have been telling you every single day of your life. But I hope that you'll still let me. Because you deserve to have everything you want in life. Which is the second biggest reason I am marrying you in a church."

Sniffing and wiping the tears from her face as well as his, Booth took a deep breath and began to relax for the first time in a month. "Thanks, Bones. But...what is the biggest reason?"

Brennan pressed a light kiss to his lips, smiling against his mouth. "Because I love you, you big baby. I love you."


	12. Fingerprint

Fingerprint

"What's that, Daddy?" Charlotte Camille Booth pointed one tiny finger at the picture sitting on the kitchen table. It showed six little hand prints, in all different colors of paint, surrounding two larger prints.

Booth scooted his youngest (by 5 minutes) daughter closer to the table and picked up the frame. "That, peanut, is a picture your Auntie Angela made for us when you and your brother and sister were born."

"Wow..." Charlotte, or CeCe as her family called her, was always amazed by anything her favorite aunt Angela did. "Who's hand prints are they, Daddy?"

Grinning at the memory of the absolute mess that resulted from such a simple picture, Booth began to explain each brightly colored image. "See the blue prints? Those hands belong to your brother, Henry. Since he is the oldest, we put his first."

"I like Henry. He's smart, like Mama." CeCe nodded her head, chestnut curls bobbing against her father's neck.

"He certainly is." Booth agreed. His son was the mirror image of his mother, Temperance. From his auburn hair and piercing blue eyes, to his genius IQ, Booth referred to him as their "Bones Clone".

"And these hands.." He continued, "are your sister Christine's. See how long her fingers are?" He traced the tiny painted phalanges with affection.

CeCe followed her father's finger along the picture. "They're bigger than Henry's! And he's a boy!"

Booth chuckled. "Don't let your mother hear you say that, baby. Even if it is true. Your sister is going to be as tall as your mom, I think."

"And she looks like Mama, too! Chrissy is pretty." CeCe worshiped her older sister, even though they were essentially the same age. Christine did look like Brennan, but she had her dad's outgoing personality to go with her looks.

"You're just as beautiful as your sister, CeCe. Don't ever doubt that. How can you not be? You look just like me." He chucked her affectionately under her little chin, eliciting a giggle.

"So these are my hands, Daddy? The pink ones? I like pink." She pointed to the last set of small hands.

"Yes, baby. You have the smallest hands, because you were the smallest when you were born." CeCe was a complete and total daddy's girl and she knew it. She not only had her father's dark brown eyes and brown hair, she also possessed his naturally happy personality and generous nature. Brennan frequently commented that her youngest daughter often displayed looks and gestures that were the spitting image of Booth, so much so that she would seek her out before anyone when she needed comfort or a hug. "She's just like a Mini Booth, Seeley. I can't resist her." Brennan would say.

"I don't like being the smallest, Daddy. I wanna be big like Chrissy." An adorable pout appeared on a tiny lip, making Booth laugh outright.

"Oh, sweetheart. We can't all be tall, or a genius or beautiful. God made everyone different, that's what makes the world so interesting." Booth pulled CeCe close. "Wouldn't it be boring if we were all exactly alike?"

CeCe sighed dramatically. "I suppose."

"How about we hang this picture back up for Mama, huh? Your brother broke the frame with his hockey stick, but now that we've fixed it we can put it on the wall in the hallway, huh?" Booth moved to pick the picture up, but his daughter stopped him.

"What about the big hands, Daddy And why are they mixed up like that?"

"Oh. Those are mine and your Mama's hands. The red one is Mom and the green one is mine."

"Daddy! Look how big your hand is!" CeCe was awed by the outline of her father's hand, which filled more that three times the space hers did.

"Well, I'm a grown up. Of course my hand is going to be bigger, baby." He lifted the picture in one hand and held CeCe with the other arm, carrying them both into the hallway. He hung the picture reverently, running his finger along the tiny hands one more time. "The reason our hands are intertwined, mixed up like you said, is to show that your mom and I are connected. That we are the center of the family and that we share the same space in the world."

"But Daddy, it's impossible for two objects to occupy the same space!"

CeCe was lifted out of her father's arms and into the waiting arms of her mother. "Oh, I disagree, Charlotte." Brennan smiled at her husband and held her daughter close. "Sometimes, science can't explain everything."

"Especially love, right Bones?"

"Mmmm. That, especially."


	13. Luddite

**Ludd·ite**

Pronunciation: \ˈlə-ˌdīt\

Function: _noun_

**:** one of a group of early 19th century English workmen destroying laborsaving machinery as a protest; _broadly_ **:** one who is opposed to especially technological change

"What happened, Cam?" Booth walked around the debris scattered around the lab, remnants of the microscope Hodgins had thrown across the room not half an hour ago.

"Well, lets just say that Hodgins had a meltdown and leave it at that. Luckily for him, he can afford to replace a $10,000 piece of equipment." Cam shook her head and motioned towards Jack's office. "No one can get him to talk about what's bothering him."

Booth considered his options and decided that if the situations were reversed, Hodgins would be all over him trying to get him to talk, so he nodded to Cam and headed in the direction of his friend's office.

When he knocked, Jack was sitting on the floor, back resting on the far wall. "Go away. Whoever it is, go away."

"Hodgins?" Booth entered carefully, ready to duck flying bug cases at a moments notice. "It's Booth. Can I come in?"

Sighing, Hodgins waved his arm expansively. "Sure. What the hell. No one listens to me anyway."

Booth ambled into the room and stood next to Hodgins with his back to the wall. "What's going on in your head, Jack? You don't like working here or something?"

Hodgins looked up, surprised that Booth had used his first name. "This place is giving me migraines, if you want to know the truth." He glared as Booth slid down to sit beside him. "I hate everyone here."

"Yeah, I have days like that, too. Bones drives me up the wall, Cam gets on my nerves, Angela is so nosy I want to punch myself in the face, and you're a pain in the ass. So yeah...I feel your pain, man." Booth turned his head slightly. "But what set you off? Breaking a sensitive piece of equipment is not your usual MO, Hodgins. Usually you just get snotty with everyone or accuse us of being part of some big government conspiracy and you're good to go."

Shaking his head, Hodgins leaned his head back and snorted. "I wish it were that easy this time."

Finding that the best approach was usually the most direct, Booth laid his cards on the table. "You know, I was sitting in the diner last night when Bones came in with Hacker. Obviously, they ignored me completely but they knew I was there. And he couldn't resist putting his hands all over her." Booth held up his left hand with a grimace, showing off the scrapes from the wall outside the diner. "Sometimes talking about it is more productive."

"She's an idiot, dude." Hodgins shook his head again. "They're both idiots."

"I assume you're not including Hacker in that assessment."

"Yeah." Jack stood and walked back to his desk, Booth right behind him. "I just-what is she thinking? I mean, I thought I was okay with it." At Booth's dubious look, he smiled. "Okay, I didn't think I was okay with it, but I thought I could live with it. And now..."

"What happened?"

Jack huffed a short laugh and sat behind his desk. "They're going away on vacation together. Hawaii."

"Damn."

"Yeah."

"So, what? You can live with them screwing here, but somewhere else bothers you? Or is it the fact that going away is one of her idiotic 'relationship steps'?" Booth had to roll his eyes at that.

"Maybe." He leaned back and looked, unseeing, at the ceiling. "I don't know. Probably. I just feel..."

"Betrayed?" The sharp look he received made Booth think he'd hit the nail on the head with that one. "Yeah, I can imagine."

"You know, she wanted me to help her end her sexual fast." Hodgins laughed mirthlessly. "And I turned her down."

"Because being with her is not about 'satisfying sexual urges'." Booth nodded. "You're still in love with her, it would be more than that."

"You sound like you speak from experience."

"Tell me about it. I am the undisputed champion of self flagellation."

"You know, if everyone hears you using those big words they're going to know how smart you are."

"You'll keep my secret." Booth threw him his 'You're a man so this is lower wattage than normal Charm Smile'.

"Yeah." Hodgins considered the man sitting across the desk from him for a moment. "How do you do it? How do you spend every single day with a woman you're so obviously in love with and not want to drive your gas-guzzling SUV through a brick wall?"

"Who says I don't want to?" Leaning forward, Booth looked Hodgins right in the eye. "Look, it never gets easier. I hate to break it to you, but it doesn't. It gets easier to deal with moment to moment, but never easier in general. I was told to have patience and faith in this situation, and it has helped a little. They aren't meant to be together, you know that. And...when things inevitably go south, you'll be there to pick up the pieces. Until then, I suggest you start dating other people. It does help."

"You're dating?" Hodgins hadn't heard this little tidbit.

"Yeah, marine biologist from our last case. Dr. Klein. Nice woman. Not forever nice, but nice. She's not up for anything forever, either. Just someone to hang out, or do whatever, with. You know?" Booth had the grace to look a little embarrassed. "We deserve better, man. And we don't have to be monks waiting for it."

"Yeah. Maybe."

"No maybe about it. Don't think I didn't see you checking out the little redhead from Egyptology who was in here the other day. Looks a little like Tori Amos? You should ask her out." Booth leaned back again, waiting for Hodgins to respond.

"Yeah. Yeah! I think maybe I will. I do deserve better." Hodgins stood and walked out from behind the desk. "Now I should probably go apologize to Cam and order a new electron microscope." He held out his hand. "Thanks, Booth. Really. You're less obnoxious to talk to than Sweets."

Booth laughed and clapped him on the back. "Of course I am. And maybe when you're done we can go get a drink...or seven."

"You're on. Be right back." Hodgins headed in the direction of his boss's office, smiling a genuine smile for the first time in days.

Booth sat back down on the chair and rested his ankle on the other knee. He might not have solved his friend's problem, but at least he helped him carry the burden a short ways. 'Work shared is work halved', he thought. 'And it goes both ways.'

He stood and walked out of the office, flipping his poker chip and whistling tunelessly.


	14. Superhero

Superhero

"I'm telling you, Bones...I would make a great vampire!" Booth followed Brennan into her office, settling down on her sofa as she stopped behind her desk to boot up her computer.

"No, Booth. You wouldn't. You love being out in the sun too much. Although..." Brennan tilted her head slightly, considering. "You do love extremely rare meat and you are definitely not a morning person. That could work in your favor."

"See? Perfect vampire! Plus-" Booth was interrupted by the appearance of Angela entering the office.

"Who's a perfect vampire?" She asked, looking between Booth and Brennan.

"Booth claims he would make a good vampire, although I doubt the veracity of that claim." Brennan refrained from rolling her eyes for the millionth time that morning.

"Hmmm." Angela regarded Booth with a practiced eye. "Dark, broody, slightly dangerous...hey! Has anyone ever told you that you look an awful lot like that vampire from Buffy? Angel?"

Brennan sighed. "Yes, Angela. We were watching Angel last night, that's what started the discussion. Booth has a strikingly similar facial structure to the actor who plays Angel, and when I pointed that out it began this ridiculous conversation."

"_Strikingly similar?!?_ You've got to be kidding! You two could be twins!" Angela shook her head, unable to believe that she hadn't noticed it before. "Really. And you're not just alike in looks, either."

Booth sat forward, warming to the discussion. "Really now. And what else do I have in common with a sexy vampire?" He wiggled his eyebrows at Angela, goading her into her practiced response.

"Besides the sexy part?" She accommodated Booth in his compliment grope fest, then went on. "Well, he's a champion. He protects the innocent and weak. He's done some things he's not proud of, but underneath he's a good person who strives to do the right thing after all is said and done, sometimes at great personal risk. In short, you're both superheroes."

Booth blushed furiously while Brennan nodded vigorously. "That's definitely you, Seeley."

Angela whipped her head around. "Seeley? Really now...." She sauntered closer to her best friend, taking her first really good look at her all day. "Hmmm...I see another thing you and Angel have in common."

Suddenly wary, Booth asked, "And what's that, Ang?"

Pointing to the obvious marks on Brennan, she grinned merrily. "You both like to suck on women's necks."


	15. Translation

Translation

Brennan's fingers flew over the keys as she tapped out another chapter of her new book. Inspiration had struck early that morning, so she had come into work early to get her thoughts down as soon as possible. She was so engrossed in her work that she failed to hear her visitor standing just inside her door, watching her intently.

Andrew Hacker could do nothing but stare at Temperance as she diligently worked at her computer. He assumed that, by the sheer volume of words, she was writing on her new book. It didn't surprise him very much, she always seemed to be working. It made him wonder just how much her partner really cared about her if he let her work herself to death like that. That was the reason Andrew was there at 8 AM, to take her to breakfast. He assumed, correctly, that she hadn't eaten this morning. He wondered how Booth could possibly care for her if he didn't even bother to make sure she was taking care of herself.

He had just decided to indulge in a few more minutes of gazing at her in secret, when he heard heavy footsteps coming down the platform behind him. Turning slightly, he saw Booth headed for her office, a bag in one hand and a holder with two coffees in the other. He saw Hacker standing there, looking sheepish, and decided to make the man a little uncomfortable.

"Good morning, sir. What brings you to this neck of the woods this early in the morning?" Brennan's concentration was broken when Booth spoke, so he threw her a welcoming smile. He ignored Hacker's sheepish glance and crossed the room to her desk. "Good morning, Bones, I know you didn't eat before you came in at the butt crack of dawn, so here's your almond croissants and coffee. Did you get that report finished for me?" He handed a grateful Brennan the bag and coffee, fully aware of the fact that he hadn't let his boss answer any of his questions.

"Thank you, Booth. This was exactly what I wanted!" Brennan gave him a grateful smile. "I got...um, inspired last night and I just had to come in this morning and get it out. I'll finish the report before you have to leave for the Hoover, I promise."

"Inspired, huh?" Booth couldn't suppress the cocky grin that spread across his face, but did manage to cough slightly and hide it as Hacker looked at him questioningly.

"Yes, I-" Brennan finally noticed the man standing behind Booth in the doorway. "Oh, Director Hacker. I didn't see you. Is there something I can do for you?"

Hacker cleared his throat and walked into the office. "Well, actually I had come to ask you if you were interested in breakfast, but it seems Agent Booth has that taken care of. So, would you be interested in lunch today? Around one?"

Brennan spared Booth a wary glance as he walked to her sofa and sat down with his own breakfast, features schooled carefully in disinterest. After years of knowing him, Brennan knew he was trying not to clench his jaw in irritation.

"Um, that's a nice invitation, Director. But I'm afraid I already have plans for lunch. I'm sorry." She smiled slightly at Booth's boss and tried to sound dismissive.

Hacker was disappointed, but was anything but a quitter. "Well then. How about dinner? I think I could probably wrangle a reservation at Nobu. I have some connections, you know." He smiled what he thought was a charming grin at her.

Temperance sighed, not looking forward to this at all. She looked at Booth, who was looking intently into his coffee and trying not to laugh. She could tell he was loving this.

"Director Hacker...Andrew. I am very sorry, but I can't accept your invitation. I am involved with someone. I don't believe he would appreciate my going to dinner with another man."

Andrew felt as if someone had punched him in the gut. Had he really been too late? He made a mental note to grill Booth about this new man later. "Oh. I'm sorry, I didn't know. I apologize for putting you in an uncomfortable situation, Temperance."

"No, I am the one who is sorry, Andrew. But thank you for the invitation. Really." She said, trying once again to add a dismissive tone to her voice.

He finally got the hint and turned to go with a nod. "Booth. See you at the office?"

Booth finally looked up, smiling. "Sir. I'll be there later, after we wrap up this paperwork."

"Of course. Good day, both of you." Hacker left the room, looking dejected.

Booth waited until his boss had walked far enough away, then began chuckling. "Oh Bones, you broke his little heart."

Brennan suppressed a smile and moved to sit next to him on the sofa. "Be nice, Booth. You can afford to be magnanimous, considering the fact that you are the one I put him off for." She leaned over to kiss him lightly. "I just hope he doesn't give you too hard a time at work because of it. I would feel awful about that."

Booth slid his arm around her and leaned them back. "Nah, don't sweat it, babe. He's not a bad guy, just a little goofy is all. He won't retaliate."

"Well, if you're sure..." Brennan didn't look convinced.

"I am." Booth returned her kiss with one of his own and stood. "Tell you what, you finish those reports and send them over by courier, and I'll take you to that nasty vegan place you like for dinner tonight, deal?"

"Oooh. Deal!" Brennan jumped up and kissed him soundly on the lips. For a moment, they indulged in a deeper kiss, tongues tangling and breath mingling deliciously, arms wrapped tightly around each other, unaware of their audience a few feet away.

Hacker had remembered something he needed to tell Booth, and had turned around to go back when he saw the very public make-out scene in front of him. Sighing, he turned again and left for good this time. "What does he have that I don't have?" he thought, already knowing the answer.

"Oh, yeah....her."


	16. Math

Math

"Booth, what is your problem? You've been snippy all day!" Brennan huffed as Booth took another corner on two wheels, screeching the already over-worked tires.

"Nothing. Am I not allowed to be in a bad mood once in awhile? I mean, it's not like we men get an excuse every 28 days to be cranky. Sometimes we just are." He kept his eyes on the road, white knuckles clutching the steering wheel.

Brennan rolled her eyes. "Angela would say that you're being a jackass. I would have to concur."

"Yeah, well Angela is prone to exaggeration and hyperbole."

"True." Brennan sat quietly for twenty more minutes, allowing Booth to seethe to himself, before her innate curiosity once again got the better of her.

"Booth?" She ventured.

"What now, Bones?" He was not in the mood for chit chat today.

"Is there anything I can do to make you feel better?" Her innocent question was asked with only the best intentions, but Booth's mind went there anyway. _'I can think of at least one thing, Bones. But I'm afraid if you actually do it I might drive us off the road in the middle.'_

"No, thanks Bones. It's my problem."

"Problem?" Brennan scrunched her forehead in distress. "Booth, we're partners. If one of us is having a problem, we always try to fix it together."

Booth resisted the urge to cry out of frustration. "And I appreciate that, Bones. But this isn't exactly a "fixable" problem. I can deal with it."

Brennan looked at Booth's profile carefully. The faint blush on his cheeks finally gave her a bit of a clue to his 'issue'."

"Is this a sexual problem, Booth?"

"Wha? No! What? Why would you ask that?" Booth gaped at her. "Bones!"

"Well, it's not an uncommon problem for men who are approaching forty to have some sexual issues. It's inevitable, Booth. Simple math. And certainly nothing to be ashamed-"

"I have absolutely no problem getting it up, Bones! None! So let it go!!" Booth practically screamed. "And I am NOT getting old!" His voice cracked on the last word.

Brennan knew an 'a-ha!' moment when she felt one. "Booth...does this have anything at all to do with aging? Because I can assure you, you are still a virile and young man, not old at all."

Glancing at Brennan again, Booth suddenly felt horrible for yelling at her. She was trying _so hard _to be nice to him, to try to help. Yeah, he was a jackass.

"I'm sorry, Bones. Really. I just-" He paused, wondering if she would laugh at his problem or point out it's anthropological inevitability. Oh, what the hell.

"I found a gray hair this morning when I was trimming my hair."

Brennan released the breath she was holding and willed herself not to laugh. "Booth, everyone gets gray hair. In fact, not to make you feel worse, but I've already seen plenty of gray in your hair. Sorry."

"Oh, no you haven't, Bones." He took a deep breath. "Not...where I found this one, anyway."

She stared hard out the passenger window, biting her lip hard enough to draw blood. "Mmmhmm. Okay."

"Bones? Are you laughing at me?!?" Booth sputtered. He could clearly see her shoulders shaking. "Hey! You're supposed to be supportive!"

Brennan turned to Booth, clutching her stomach, tears streaming down her face. "Oh...oh, Booth! I'm so...so sorry! Oh God..." Another wave of laughter gripped her and she bent down, head between her knees.

Booth shook his head and pulled over at the crime scene. He opened the car door and started to step out before turning back and glaring at Brennan, still hysterical.

"You suck, Bones. You really, really suck."


	17. Bathtub

Bathtub

Brennan stood in the housewares section of the Home Depot with a look of deep concentration on her face. She paced back and forth between several bathroom layouts, intermittently shaking her head and crinkling her brow.

From his vantage point one aisle away, Tim Sullivan watched his former lover with undisguised interest. She looked fantastic, almost glowing. It had been over six years since he had seen her, but she didn't seem to have changed much. Maybe a little curvier, but certainly just as gorgeous as the day he mistakenly sailed away on the boat he impulsively named after her.

Brennan looked up from her paperwork when an orange-vested employee approached her, offering help. Sully couldn't resist edging a little closer to hear her whiskey-roughened voice, a voice he had dreamed of often.

"Yes, I could use some help. I have the dimensions of my new bathroom, but I have a few questions about the bathtub I need." Temperance nodded towards the displays.

"Yes, ma'am. What exactly are you looking for, size-wise? And are there restrictions on what you wish to spend?" The young man helping her noticed her well-dressed appearance and tasteful but expensive jewelery and knew that price wasn't going to be an issue.

Brennan pointed to one of the larger jacuzzi-size tubs. "I need something about this size. Something that can accommodate two people comfortably."

Hearing that, Sully felt a little disappointed but not surprised. Of course she would have moved on after all this time.

"Well, this should be plenty big enough. I assume..." The kid looked absolutely mortified by what he was about to infer, and took a step back from Brennan, blushing furiously.

Sully was flabbergasted at what Brennan did and said next. She actually _giggled._ "Um, I am looking for the large size because I had planned on having a water delivery for the impending birth of my child." She patted the young man on the arm in mock comfort. "But _other uses_ for the bathtub require the size as well."

The realization that Brennan was pregnant combined with the now-obvious rings on Temperance's left hand hit Sully like a sledgehammer. All that he could have had and everything he ever wished for was standing right in front of him, and he had walked away without a backward glance. Not without remorse, of course. He had definitely missed her, especially when the emails and letters from her had ceased. He was sure now that the reason was that her husband wouldn't have liked her corresponding with an old boyfriend. He knew that were it him he wouldn't have appreciated it. That also made Sully wonder what her spouse thought of her overprotective male partner. That is, if she and Booth were still partners. He realized that he didn't even know if she still worked with the FBI. So much had changed, and his mind reeled.

Having apparently made up her mind, Brennan nodded to the boy and pulled out her wallet. "I think I will take this one. Could I have it delivered?"

"Certainly, ma'am. I just need your address and contact information. Lets get this filled out." The young man flipped a page over on his tablet and began to take her information.

"Of course. My name is Temperance Booth. I have a card with our home address, if that helps." Sully shook his head in mild amazement. He should have known Booth wouldn't have denied his feelings for Brennan forever. But the fact that he not only got her to marry him but have a baby as well? That was something that Sully didn't see coming. Just then, there was a ruckus at the other end of the aisle.

"Bones! Dad is looking for you!" A tall, preteen boy ambled up next to Brennan and put his arm around her protectively. "He said you should have picked out twelve bathtubs by now!"

Both Brennan and what Sully assumed to be Booth's son Parker rolled their eyes. "He does love to exaggerate, your father." She reached over and patted Parker's arm affectionately. "What exactly is he doing, anyway? Buying more power tools?"

Parker laughed. "Nah, I don't think they have any that he doesn't. He and Lily were looking at treehouses, I think."

"Hey! Every kid needs a treehouse, Parker! You had one!" Booth's booming voice carried over what seemed to be half the store. He strolled over to his wife and son, a small girl with bouncing brown curls and big blue eyes perched on his shoulders. "Lily can't play on yours anymore, it's too old." He leaned down and kissed Temperance on the cheek. "What did you find, love? Anything you like?"

Brennan smiled up at him and grabbed her daughter's sandal-clad foot, jiggling it affectionately. "Yes, I did. Plenty big enough to give birth in, and big enough to share."

"Ew, Bones. I don't want to hear that!" Parker's face wrinked in disgust, although Sully didn't know whether it was from the discussion of his stepmother giving birth or her sharing a tub with his dad.

"Oh Parker, lighten up." Booth slapped him lightly on the back of the head. "Anyway, are they going to deliver it to the house, Bones? I can install it, I have all the tools."

"Oh, I know you do." Brennan rolled her eyes again and patted his arm. "They are going to deliver it. Tomorrow."

"Great. Hodgins said he would come over and help. Maybe we can barbeque after? Ang and the kids can come, too." Booth smiled happily at the thought of manly pursuits like installing baths and setting food on fire.

As Booth and Brennan discussed their weekend plans, Sully turned and faded quietly into the background, choosing not to show himself. Aside from not wanting to intrude, he just couldn't handle the look of satisfaction that he knew would appear on Booth's face when he introduced his family. Sully knew it was his fault, but that didn't assuage the feeling that he had made the biggest mistake of his life when he hopped on that boat.

'Too late now', he thought.


	18. Ceramics

Ceramics

Standing in the cold rain with dusk sliding down all around them, FBI Special Agent Seeley Booth and his partner, Dr. Temperance Brennan, seemed disinclined to move from their positions in front of the freshly dug grave. They stood close together, but only from behind could you see Brennan's small hand rubbing slowly and tenderly up and down Booth's back, offering silent support and comfort.

Booth's gaze was locked on the small, temporary metal cemetery marker by the displaced pile of dirt. No matter how many times he read the name, he couldn't get the reality to sink into his head.

_MSgt. Henry S. Lutrell_

_1969-2010_

A car accident had claimed Booth's friend at the relatively young age of 40, leaving behind a wife and two sons. _After surviving Kosovo, Afghanistan, and countless unnamed missions, not to mention a bullet to the spine....a damn car accident. Senseless. _

Booth shook himself out of his reverie and took Brennan's hand as he led her out of the cemetery. They climbed into his SUV without uttering a word and headed, by silent agreement, towards her apartment. Once there, Booth exited the vehicle and started when he realized that she was waiting for him to open her door. Shaking his head slightly at her compassion, he rounded the car and pulled passenger side handle, offering her his hand again to help her out. She slid gracefully onto the pavement and waited while he closed and locked the door, taking his arm and leading him into the building.

As they entered her apartment, she shucked her long overcoat and turned to take his. He slid the wet garment off his broad shoulders and acquiesced to her ministrations. She led him to the sofa, and uttered the first words she'd spoken since they had entered the gates at Arlington earlier that morning.

"I can make us some tea, if you'd like?" She toed off her black heels and began to wander towards the open kitchen.

"That sounds nice, Bones. Thanks." His response was no more than a mere whisper. "And thank you for coming today. I appreciate it."

Brennan regarded him closely, looking for a sign that he was going to drop his stoic demeanor. "Anytime, Booth. I liked Hank a great deal, and he was a very good man. I'm just so very sorry for you. And especially for Janie and the children. This has to be devastating for them."

"Yeah." Booth croaked, letting his eyes slide close to quell the tears that threatened.

Carrying a tray with two ceramic tea cups, tea pot, cream and sugar, Brennan made her way into the living room and sat the tray on the coffee table in front of Booth. "Is...is it, I mean...do you think that it's worth it?" Her whispered question threatened to undo him. He didn't even try to pretend that he didn't know exactly what she was asking.

Sighing, Booth pulled her into his arms and began mimicking her earlier movements, rubbing her back absently. "Sometimes I wonder...when something like this happens...but in the long run, yeah. I think it's absolutely worth it." He pulled back and looked into her eyes, surprised to see tears. "What's up, Bones?"

"I just...." She sniffed gracefully and leaned her forehead against his. "I want it to be worth it. I want..."

"What, Bones?" He held her gaze, heads locked together. "What do you want?"

She closed her eyes briefly before looking back at him, honesty and something else he couldn't quite identify shining through the expressive blue orbs. "You. All of it. And I want to know that it will be worth it."

"Oh, Bones..." His heart clenched tightly in his chest and he pulled her close to him, kissing the top of her head and exhaling deeply. "Everything we do is worth it. Everything. Catching the bad guys, having a drink when we close a case, the daily bickering, the late night Thai...all of it. Adding a new phase to our relationship won't change that. I couldn't be more attached to you if I tried, Temperance."

Brennan let the tears slide down her face and wet his dress shirt, relief flooding her senses and threatening to overwhelm her. "Neither could I."

She stood all at once and offered him her hand, beckoning him to follow. "Bones...are you sure? I mean, I-"

"I couldn't be more sure." She smiled softly and continued down the hallway, pulling him lightly. "Now prove to me that it really is worth it."

He returned her smile and followed willingly. He would follow her anywhere.


	19. Symbiosis

One more post for Smurf's birthday....

Symbiosis

It wasn't often that Angela Montenegro was at a loss for words, but in this instance she simply couldn't find them.

She had been summoned to the crime scene by Booth in order to help process evidence in a large, multi-victim area. Normally not her cup of tea, Brennan had assured the artist that she would not have to deal with any of the bodies, only the seemingly inconsequential scraps around the scene itself.

But her evidence collection was suffering as her eyes became locked on the partners in front of her. Booth was standing over Brennan as she examined a victim, note cards and pen in hand, writing down every word she said and nodding when necessary. As Brennan processed, Booth would hand her the tools she needed without asking, taking one that she no longer needed and placing it back into the proper place her kit without even looking. He took each evidence bag as it was filled and placed it carefully into a large marked box, and without even looking Angela knew that Booth had put each bag in it's proper order.

Brennan finally stood and stretched, placing her hands on her back. Booth then stepped behind her and rubbed the offending area, a gesture that should have looked more intimate than it did. But in the context of what she had been watching all day, Angela thought that it simply looked right. Comfortable. Friendly. After five years of placing his hand in that same spot on her lower back, Booth seemed to have claimed it as his territory. She wondered internally if Bren even noticed his hand anymore.

Suddenly, a hail of gunfire began pelting the crime scene, FBI techs and Jeffersonian employees scrambling for cover under the onslaught. Booth had tossed Brennan down into the grave in front of them and had thrown himself on top of her, his gun drawn and looking around for the source of the hail of bullets.

'What the...?' Angela felt something wet on her neck, and reached up with a shaking hand. She wasn't terribly surprised when her hand came back covered in blood. What did surprise her was the amount of blood. It was almost as if her carotid artery was severed, there was so much red everywhere. As she slipped out of consciousness, she saw Brennan and Booth hovering over her, crying.

"So this is how it ends..." She thought. "And I never got to see them bump uglies. Bummer."

The only physical evidence ever found was a Voltron backpack with wasted cartridges left behind on a ridge above the scene. They never caught the gunman.


	20. Sharpshooter

Sharpshooter

Brennan stood on the forensic platform examining the remains for their latest case. Nearby, Angela worked on identifying the poor soul and Hodgins was intently staring into a microscope, trying to identify particulates.

With a _swoosh,_ the lab doors opened and Booth limped in. He had one hand wrapped tightly in gauze while his other was cradled in a sling and covered with plaster. The week before he had been sideswiped by a suspect and rolled the SUV, but luckily had escaped with nothing more than some bruises on his face and torso, a broken hand and four mangled fingers on the other. He proceeded carefully to the platform, then waited as Angela scanned her card to let him in. He couldn't get his wallet out of his pocket easily enough to get his own card, and everyone had begun to scan him in as a matter of habit.

"Good morning, Squint Squad. Do we have anything yet, Bones?" He leaned against the railing, trying to get comfortable while fighting his innate need to cross his arms in that position.

Brennan gave him a half-smile and shook her head. "Nothing conclusive yet, Booth. Definitely foul play, but I haven't targeted a murder weapon as of yet." She stopped and regarded him closely. "Are you alright, Booth? In pain? You're rather fidgety."

"Yeah, Bones. Fine. I just need to..." He indicated with his head towards the restrooms. "It can wait."

"Why didn't you say something? Lets go." Brennan placed her hand on his back and pushed Booth in the direction of the men's bathroom. She held the swinging door for him, and then followed him in.

Angela stood, gape-jawed. "Jack...did I just see what I think I just saw?"

Hodgins looked up from his scope. "What?"

"I think Brennan just took Booth potty."

Hodgins snorted and shook his head at his former fiance. "Ang, you are out of your mind. Like Booth would let-" His sentence was cut short as he watched in shock as Brennan led Booth back out of the restroom and towards the platform.

"Booth, why don't you go to my office and relax for a bit? I'll let you know when we have anything to update you." Brennan turned him around and pushed him in the right direction.

"Alright, Bones. Thanks." Booth ambled off towards her office without protest.

When Brennan stepped back onto the platform, Angela couldn't stop herself. "Sweetie? Did you just take Booth to the bathroom?"

Brennan looked at Angela briefly as she leaned back over the remains. "Yes. The injuries to his hands hamper his ability to aim. I simply assisted him in pointing it in the right direction."

Hodgins let his head drop to the desk in front of him, shoulders shaking in unrestrained glee. Angela couldn't stop the snort from escaping her lips as well. Rolling her eyes at their juvenile reactions, Brennan went back to work as if nothing had happened.

"Well," Hodgins remarked as he wiped his eyes. "I hope you at least washed your hands."

Booth heard the whooping laughs from the platform all the way in Brennan's office. He sighed.

"Just kill me now."


End file.
